


To Reach a Journey's End

by AnEmoApparently, Miscellaneous_Ace



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Acquaintances to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Highschool AU, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Logan's aren't great either, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Patton is constantly stressed, Roman's parents are major dicks, Soulmate AU, Virgil's Family is the only Functional one, and when we say lovers we mean highshool bfs, lots of anxious thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20648585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnEmoApparently/pseuds/AnEmoApparently, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miscellaneous_Ace/pseuds/Miscellaneous_Ace
Summary: Fate is like a braided cord, all woven up together.Patton and Virgil have been best friends for years. Roman and Virgil are sure that their story is hate at first sight and nothing more. Logan is happy being alone... for the most part.That's how things are, and how they’ll stay. Or, maybe not… Their stories are intertwined, not that they know it yet, and while fate might be pulling them together, their actions decide the path they follow, right to the journey’s end.





	1. Local Emo Fights New Kid Over Macbeth

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: we are not Americans. We are also... dumb bitches.  
OUr knowledge of how America works, which is limited at best, comes from Media. So have fun with our shitty rendition OR Roast us in the comments! If the latter, please tell us how to fix it.  
\- Ace
> 
> We also know things about the foster system and adoption in approximately 0 countries so... feel free to call us out on that too so we can fix it!  
also the title comes from Shakespeare's twelfth night. WHy you ask? well, you'll see :D  
-Emo
> 
> ANYGAY :) enjoy the story~

The first time that Virgil woke up, it was in a panic. He was a sweating and panting mess, and very quickly he couldn’t remember why. The nightmare just didn’t seem to stick. Soon enough, though, he managed to calm himself down, and when he looked at the time it was 3:47am. Not a time he needed to be awake at.

The second time Virgil woke up it was also a bad and inconvenient experience. His whole body was frozen, you know, like classic sleep paralysis. Eventually, after what felt like hours, he had managed to convince his weary body to get out of bed. He went to the bathroom, and returned to his room. It was 4:52am now, he still had another hour to sleep, at least. Not that it would help him all that much.

The last time that Virgil woke up that morning was to an irritating clinking, and obnoxious sipping sound. He groaned, rolling over and pulling his covers up over his head. Why couldn’t he have an alarm like normal kids?

There was an exaggerated sigh he knew all too well, “Sweetie, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Virgil groaned. His body had tricked him enough times throughout the night that he couldn’t believe that it was time to get up yet.

“6:34am,” Came the smug reply, from somewhere outside the door “And, it’s a school day. You know, like the first one back?” 

Shit. It was. In a world where he was a functioning human being, Virgil would have jumped from his bed and started getting ready as soon as he heard the door shut. This was not, however, that world, and so instead he sat up, and pulled himself from under the covers, with agonising slowness, not looking forward to the day at all.

Once he was out of the bed, however, the general anxiety kicked in and he was scrambling for his closet. He snatched whatever came to his hands first, all of which were black, and grabbed his favourite hoodie, which had been stitched up so many times it was just his aesthetic at this point, from the back of the chair where it had been left yesterday. 

He left his room to see the bastard that woke him up leaning against the wall in all his extraness and glory. Remy had sunglasses atop his head, a straw to his lips, and a fake bored expression across his face as he scrolled through his phone.

“Morning,” Virgil sighed, although that didn’t stop a slight smile spreading across his face. 

“What, not good morning?”

“Not when I have to wake up to your face, dad” 

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to being woken up by Remy, no matter how many times it happened. He didn’t think he’d get used to Remy in general for that matter, from the extra aesthetic that he totally wasn’t jealous of at all too ridiculous caffeinated beverages. 

Remy looked up and smiled, “Good morning to you too, babe. Here, iced tea because your father would kill me otherwise.”

He shoved his phone into his jacket pocket more smoothly than any human should be able to manage with a drink tucked into his elbow, before handing the travel mug of tea over.

Virgil grinned, amused, and took his drink, “The usual, yeah?”

“Of course,” Remy grinned and stood up properly, he was still so much taller than Virgil and it bugged him to no end, “What else would I get my favourite son?”

“I’m your only son.”

Remy only winked and made his way out of the room, with Virgil trailing behind. 

_ Down the hall and to the left _ , Virgil noted for the billionth time through force of habit, as they arrived in the main living area. The living room, otherwise known as Remy’s domain, was to the right. The dining hall was directly in front of the end of the hallway. The kitchen and front door to the left, as per Virgil’s repetitive observations. He didn’t need to keep track of these things anymore. He’s been in the same house for four years, he knew the layout very well by now, but you know, old habits die hard and all that jazz.

Emile, Virgil’s other dad, was cooking breakfast. Though, cooking was a strong word for what he was doing. He was making toast and cereal.

Virgil sat down at his usual spot at the table and began on his cereal, knowing the toast would take another minute or two.

“Are you how?” Emile greeted with a bright smile, “Sleep well?”

“Only woke up twice,” Virgil replied, returning the smile, “Which I think is an improvement.”

Emile nodded briefly, but Virgil could still see the worry in his eyes. He couldn’t blame him though, Virgil and sleep weren’t usually a happy combination, and he still struggled to get anything close to a full night’s sleep in their home, even after all his time here. 

Remy slipped into the kitchen, throwing an arm around his husband, and soulmate “What’s cooking, good looking?”

“Toast,” Emile replied with his usual grin, then an even brighter expression took over his features and Virgil braced himself, “So! I was thinking we could watch this new show, Amphibia together tonight! One of my clients is  _ obsessed _ and I need to know all of their references.”

Remy laughed, and nodded, “Alright, but remember it's going to be a school night for Virgil now. First day back and all that.”

“Oh no!” Emile nearly wailed, “It is! I forgot!”

Virgil snorted, and looked up at his parents, “It’s fine. I can make it.”

“No, no, you don’t get enough sleep as it is, mister” Emile replied only half reprimanding, “We’ll have to wait until Friday. Ugh, school! Why!”

“Isn’t that my line?” Virgil grinned.

Emile smiled back, “It might be.”

Remy, seemingly satisfied with himself and his troublemaking, sat down at the table and waited for his own breakfast. Even though everyone in the house knew he was the better cook, everyone in the house  _ also  _ knew that it made Emile happy when he got to make anything for them, and Virgil was sure that Remy would eat burnt AND soggy toast and pretend to enjoy it if it made Emile happy.

They were fucking saps, the lot of them. And yet, Virgil quietly hoped that he would be in love like that when he finally met his soulmate. 

**If you have one** , a thought growled. Ok, great, thanks, he thought back sarcastically. 

“So, excited to go back to school, Virgil?” Emile asked, sliding plates of toast to each of them and joining them at the table.

Virgil looked up at his father with the closest thing to a combination of both a death glare and a pleading look, “Ha ha. Very funny. Yes, I’m very much looking forward to being surrounded by people again as part of my daily life. It’s going to be great.”

“Gurl, what has your father said about positive attitudes?” Remy asked between bites of the piece of toast he had smothered in jam.

“That I should like, have one, and stuff,” he mumbled into his cereal.

“It’s ok that you’re not looking forward to the whole experience Virgil, school is pretty tough. Can you tell me one thing you’re looking forward to doing as part of it, at least?” Emile asked.

Virgil was silent for a while, pushing his cereal around the bowel and thinking.

“I guess I’m looking forward to seeing Patton every day again, instead of just texting him and meeting up,” he said at last.

Remy and Emile both smiled at that.

“Good! Speaking of Patton, when is he coming over again Virgil, we miss our second son,” Emile immediately jumped at the opportunity to ask.

“He’s busy helping his mum and stuff, just like every other time you’ve asked me this holidays,” Virgil sighed. 

“Who taught you that kind of sass, Virgil?” Remy asked, looking at him over the top of the dumb sunglasses he won’t take off.

Virgil gave him the single most deadpan look he’s ever managed, but Remy only grins back. 

The conversation drifts after that, along with Virgil’s attention. He enjoys mornings like this with his dads, being able to listen to them talk about whatever, without having to pay too much attention to what’s actually being said, and just kind of wake up slowly.

It isn’t long, however, before he has to leave the table, double and triple-check his bag, and head to school. He doesn't want to. It’s loud, there’s too many people, too much stress and- well, just too much everything. And this year wasn’t going to be any better. Senior year, same shit as every other year but with the added bonus pressure that this is the last one, and his choices count now.

He waited out the front of the school, checking his phone and trying not to look too shifty as most other students went straight through.

“There you are, you sneaky Vixen! Did you think you could slip past me on the first day back?” Patton grinned as he crushed Virgil into a hug.

“Opposite, actually. We agreed to meet here. Over text. Yesterday,” Virgil wheezed from the force of Patton’s hug.

“Well, I’m sorry! It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you!” Patton finally let him go.

“I saw you last week, and you have a standing invitation to visit my house. Pat, this is not that big a deal.”

“Oh, hush you, let me be excited!”

As they finally walked inside along with everyone else, Patton chattering happily in his ear, and smiling widely, Virgil made a prediction. Well, two predictions actually, and they went something like this: One, Patton was going to be the only good thing about the day, and two, everything else was going to range from bearably boring to straight-up awful.

Homeroom was the first example of straight-up awful. The teacher despised Virgil specifically, but then again, it went both ways. Attitude problems and anxiety meant he ranged from ignoring the teacher entirely, or if he was feeling up to it, sassing her, which was not something that usually got you in a teacher’s good books. At least he shared the class with Patton.

History was fine, well, that was one word for it. Boring, and uneventful were more accurate ones. The teacher droned on, and the clock ticked at a snail’s pace. At least the class wasn’t overwhelming, he supposed.

Then there was English.

Now, Virgil was actually kind of looking forward to English, in fact it was his favourite subject. The teacher was bubbly and excitable, to say the least, but Mr Terrence was always sure to keep the content open-ended. 

Unlike most teachers, he welcomed alternate interpretations of what they covered, from dark and gritty to overly romanticised and fickle. As long as you could back up what you were saying he didn’t mind what you actually said. Well, as long as it wasn’t something that could get you sent to the counselor, because he did also do that when he was concerned about students. So overall, Virgil considered himself lucky to have him as a teacher for two years in a row.

He also considered himself lucky that their first topic this year would be Shakespeare. Virgil liked Shakespeare. He wasn’t certain why half the time. Maybe it was the sinister themes to the stories, or the dick jokes, maybe it was how easily you could read queer representations into it, especially with the all the plotlines that dealt with same-gendered soulmates. 

Whatever it was, Virgil liked it. He liked Shakespeare.

“Macbeth was clearly about the inevitability of fate, everyone that argues that it’s about ambition and human nature are nihilists who don’t see the good in the world.” 

He did not, however, like his classmates. Reason number one being statements like that.

He didn’t like more than a few of the other people in his class, but he had already figured that out in years prior, and gotten very used to disliking them. Now there was someone new, catching the class’ attention with his controversial statements.

Virgil could see that the guy was clearly new, and a perfect example of everything he gave a firm ‘no’ in the likeability collum. 

From his put-together style, perfect hair and ripped jeans to his red, and white jacket with gold cuffs, this boy oozed ‘popular’ energy. Virgil felt a scowl cross his features just thinking about it.

The moment he’d seen… all that… Virgil had already known he wouldn’t like him. Hate at first sight if you will. 

On top of that, he had opened his mouth because you know, class discussions about the meaning of the plays, and Virgil realised that he somehow got  _ worse _ .

“What are you even talking about?” Virgil found himself arguing before he could stop it, “Macbeth is clearly about ambition and power, not to mention a warning against reaching above your station, like consider your historical context. If Shakespeare was going to make a commentary on inevitability then he would have had soul bonds actually play a role in the plot. In fact, the fact that Lady Macbeth and Macbeth weren’t soulmates supports the idea that the play is about choices rather than inevitability.”

English was usually the class he felt comfortable speaking up in, but it didn’t usually result in the whole class staring at him. They don’t usually  _ care _ . Fuck, they must like this new kid already, and he’d just basically attacked him before he even knew his name. 

The guy was staring at him, wide-eyed, as though he really hadn’t expected to be challenged. 

“That’s a very interesting analysis Virgil,” Mr Terrence said, smiling, “Roman, do you have a refute?”

Oh FUCK, Mr Terrence was going to make them debate it. He usually liked this part of his classes- it was a chance to argue his points without it being a ‘presentation’ and with less repercussions if he was right and someone else looked stupid. Today, though, he just knew that it would not end well.

Roman, it seemed the guy’s name was, looked a little shocked both at what Virgil had said and at Mr Terrance enabling the argument.

“Well, uh,” He stumbled for a moment, but then the shining confidence that he seemed to just  _ radiate _ clicked back into place, “Well, I didn’t expect anything less from the guy who looks like his ringtone is still set to “Welcome to the Black Parade”, but that doesn't mean you’re right! The fact that soulmates aren’t a big thing in Macbeth is because it’s a tragedy, not because of the lack of fate thing. It's a significant trend in all his tragedies, except for Romeo and Juliet. The popular theory here is of course that he was saying that ignoring your soulmate and choosing someone else is fated to make an unhealthy relationship and unhappy lives, like Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. ”

Oh, so he actually knew some things about the play. That also didn’t mean he was right.

Mr Terrance said nothing, looking at Virgil, waiting for his response. Great.

“That's one of the possible theories, sure. But it’s just that, a theory. It doesn't mean you're right either. He uses soulmates just like any other literary device in his plays, and you said yourself, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy despite the fact they were soulmates. And in twelfth night, Viola and Olivia were soulmates, but they couldn’t be together because that wasn’t how soulmates  _ worked _ then, and you know, homophobia, so they could only be friends, and that was still considered a happy ending, so yeah, tell me how not ending up with your soulmate was always awful in his plays and not why Macbeth is about fate, one trick wonder,” Virgil argued, more passionately than he ever had in English before.

“Ok, fine then!” Roman jumped in before Mr Terrance could do anything to mediate, not that he seemed like he would. “If you need more evidence. The witches!”

Virgil waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“Is that it? Is that your whole point, “The witches”? Damn, and I thought you might actually be worth debating...” Virgil sighed.

He got a disapproving look from Mr Terrance for that one, but he didn’t really care.

“Oh I’m sorry Mr Doom and Gloom, I thought that maybe you were smart enough to figure out what I meant by that, but if you need me to spell it out for you-” Roman started, all bravado and large gestures again, despite the look he was now getting from the teacher

“Oh can it Prince not-so-charming, I knew what you meant by saying that, I just thought you could bring up arguments that haven't been repeated over and over. “Oh the witches represent fate” “no they were just manipulating him” and so on and so on. Forgive me if I thought you might just be able to manage something above the bare minimum,” Virgil snarked.

“I think that is quite enough,” said Mr Terrance, finally interrupting them with a look, “You have both made some very interesting points, but insulting each other is not the way to continue this debate. Instead, I would like both of you to put together a detailed list of evidence to support your argument for next week, which you can do in place of the standard homework, considering you clearly have a good understanding of the text already.”

Virgil scowled a little at Roman, but nodded. He wasn’t actually particularly upset. These debate assignments Mr Terrence gave out were actually quite fun most of the time, and far more enjoyable to him than the actual homework that covered plot and characters and all the basic stuff. 

“Now,” Said Mr Terrence, addressing the rest of the class again, “Let’s move on.”


	2. Not So Strange-r

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup! Getting the next chapter out, hope you guys are excited!   
Again, we don’t know how America works for the most part, so if we make a mistake please let us know!   
\- Ace

Lunch was a glorious respite from the classes of the day. The break itself still didn’t quite leave Virgil’s sliding scale between ok and awful, but Patton would be there, so that levelled it up to being classified as good. 

The day’s rating, outside of Patton, was slowly seeming to morph from ‘ok’ to ‘just barely tolerable’, ‘awful’ to ‘the actual end of his small world’. 

After English, he had a feeling it was only going to get worse. 

At least he managed to escape English without having to talk to that Roman guy again, and with the minimal amount of death glares he could hope to receive. He’d fled the room first, knowing that Patton would assume he’d just booked it to their spot after all that. 

He grabbed his lunch and all but ran to their place under the most secluded tree, where he and Patton had been sitting together since Patton had befriended him three years ago.

He slumped back between the roots and against the trunk, pulling his knees up and burying his head in his arms.

He takes a moment to breathe and try to remember all the different methods he’s learnt to calm down.

None of these tactics seems as effective as when he hears footsteps he recognises instantly.

“Awe, what’s got you all gloomy kiddo?” Patton asks as he settles down next to him. 

Somehow it’s that overly chipper, rather redundant question, that manages to reduce his anxiety. It does not, however, stop his sardonic reply.

“I dunno Pat, maybe the fact that I got into a huge debate with the new kid in English on the first day back, and now everyone that likes him has it out for me because we just ended up insulting each other,” he muttered sarcastically into his folded arms. 

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad Virge! I mean, sure you guys argued, but it’s just like Mr Terrance’s normal debates, don’t you think? And hey, the day’s only half over! Plenty of time for things to go better if you’re still worried,” Patton said, and Virgil could exactly picture the expression he would be wearing without having to look up. 

He’d be smiling, fond and sappy and encouraging, but there would be that faint crease of worry between his brows that he would always get whenever Virgil was upset or anxious.

Virgil glanced up, resting his chin on his arms instead of his whole face, and blew the bangs from his face. He was exactly right about the expression on Patton’s face, but honestly, visualising it still didn’t do him justice. His imagination would never be able to quite replicate the sparkle in his green eyes or the cute dimple in his smile or the sheer amount of emotion he could show on his face with such little movement and- wait no stop. Now was not the time to wax poetic about how cute his best friend looked. 

He could not let himself stray too far into that territory. Patton probably had a wonderful soulmate out there waiting for him, with a beautiful face and a shining personality to match his, and most importantly someone who was not a mess, like Virgil. 

“So,” Patton began, leaning back into the roots to relax, “What do you think we’ll be doing this year? For Drama Club.”

Virgil took a moment to think, while he pulled out one of his sandwiches.

“Probably one of the really old ones. We did Be More Chill last year, so Mrs Dollary will probably want us to do something ‘classic’. I hope it’s Shakespeare,” he said, smiling slightly at the prospect. 

“Oh, I hope so!” Patton gasped happily, “The costumes are so fun for our Shakespeare productions!”

Virgil grinned, “Yeah, the sets are so much more interesting too.”

It was easy to let the rest of the day's worries drift away then, sitting with Patton, chatting about something they were both passionate about. They ate lunch, they smiled and laughed, and he appreciated the moment away from the rest of his classes. 

It was a brief respite from the rest of the day that would be broken next by a class that Virgil usually included at the bearable end of the spectrum. Science itself, as a subject was interesting enough, and the various methods and measures were at least consistent.

The problem this time would be that he had no idea what his new teacher was like. She was apparently new this year.

So, Virgil made his way to Science with Patton, hoping to god that this would not add another subject to his ‘awful’ list. 

They were some of the first to arrive, with only two other students being in the room, both standing up the front next to her desk. They were still holding all of their belongings.

The woman that stood behind the desk, seemed to be their teacher, as she looked through the roll and glanced up at them occasionally. She had striking green glasses and a short black bob and a posture that seemed to scream seriousness.

“Name?” She asked as soon as he stepped through the door.

“Virgil Picani,” he answered as soon as he unfroze from the shock.

Patton grinned, “Patton Morgen, hello! How are you?”

She nodded, ignoring the greeting, “As I was saying to the others, I’m going to be assigning seats when the rest of the class arrives. For the moment, you can wait.”

Virgil knew very deep down and very sincerely, that nothing good would come from this. 

As the class trickled in Virgil only grew more anxious. He began to crack his knuckles in an attempt to ease the tension, but that was quickly stopped by a gentle nudge for Patton. He began to tap his foot next, along with biting his nails as he began to get pushed further and further into the blackboard. 

Eventually, the teacher stepped from behind her desk to address the whole class, “Hello seniors. I am Miss Hamasaki, and I will be your Science teacher for the foreseeable future. As you are likely aware, I will be assigning seats, based on who arrived first, first impressions, and what I decide appropriate. There will be no switching of seats unless I instruct you to do so, understood? All right then, Logan Croft please take this seat.”

A boy far more sharp and put together than any highschooler had the right to be, especially as a senior, stepped forward. He was tall, lanky, and wearing a tie despite their school’s lack of uniform. He had rectangular glasses, and a folder, which led Virgil to a thrilling conclusion.

Nerd. 

“Melissa Trainer,” Miss Hamasaki called, to reveal a shy, short girl who rushed to her allocated seat. 

“Patton Morgen.”

Patton nudged Virgil in a friendly manner as he passed, clearly trying to bestow some level of comfort. He was allocated a seat in the middle, two rows behind the Logan kid. 

“Virgil Picani.”

_ Please be next to Patton, please be next to Patton, _ he chanted. As the teacher looked up, clearly about to seat him behind Patton, she stopped. Her eyes narrowed in a calculating manner and Virgil did not like it.

“Hm… Yes, a nerd and a troublemaker,” she muttered to herself, but Virgil heard, “You’ll sit there, Mr Picani. I want you up the front.”

He shuffles forward, scowling a little, but slumps into his seat nonetheless. 

“Salutations,” said the boy he was seated next to now. 

“Hi,” he muttered back.

Oh. In that moment, several memories jumped back at him, and Virgil recognised his new desk partner. Yeah, he’d just heard his name, Logan Croft, but he remembered sitting with him in other classes, forced together by some group project or another. 

Virgil also remembered that his previous assessment was bang on, Logan was, in fact, a nerd, but one of the better ones. He did the work he was supposed to in a project and didn’t pretend that anyone else was lesser if they didn’t understand, he would be happy to explain anything he could, but still tended to use big words all the time. He also seemed quiet, most of the time. 

There could definitely be worse partners, he thought, and was promptly proven correct when the last person in class standing, waiting to be seated, was the new kid, Roman, from earlier. 

“And Mr Miller, with Mr Morgen please,” Miss Hamasaki, pointing towards Patton. 

_ Fuck. _ He thought. Shit, Patton was going to make friends with him, and Virgil was never going to be allowed to complain about him again. Fuck, what if Patton started talking to him and he decided he liked him better. He was after all, very much like Patton, seeming loud and excitable.  _ Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! _

_ No. Stop that. You’re doing that thing that your therapist told you about. What was it called again? Cognitive distortions or something… Anyway, stop, it will be fine.  _ ** _It will be fine._ ** His thoughts argued, but slowly he pulled himself away and tried desperately to focus on anything but the excited conversation between Patton and Roman just two seats back. 

“Now I know that many of you will be disconcerted by the separation with your friends. However, from this experience, I am sure that you will either make new friends, or do much better in my class than you usually would. You have five minutes to get to know your new partner, if you don’t already, starting now,” Miss Hamasaki said, returning to looking at papers behind her desk. 

Her attention didn’t wander so much that people got away with being overly loud, or behaving inappropriately, though, as Patton, Roman and several other people found out when she glared at them and shred them. 

“So…” said Virgil, awkward as ever.

“Indeed,” muttered Logan.

They both stared at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Virgil coughed awkwardly into his sleeve and stared at the floor.

He could hear Patton and Roman talking from where he sat, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He could just tell Patton’s (ever-familiar) and Roman’s (ever-annoying) voices apart from the rest of the crowd.

He found himself slowly twisting around so he could stare back at the two of them, clearly having a very animated conversation, happily getting to know each other. Virgil could practically feel the jealousy on his face. 

He could Practically hear Remy whispering in his ear,  _ “Green is not your colour, honey! Besides, no ones taking our second son away from us.” _

It was mostly the first half, but he added the second because he figured that he might as well be true to life, even in his thoughts.

“You don’t need to worry,” a rather monotone voice broke him from his thoughts. 

“What?” he blinked at Logan, probably a little bit stupidly and more than a bit dazed.

“You don’t need to worry. Anyone that’s seen you and Patton knows that you mean the world to each other. Both of you,” he said smoothly, although Virgil could almost tell that he was uncomfortable with the concept, “It is highly improbable that Patton would choose now to leave you, over a different assigned seat in class.”

“Improbable does not mean impossible,” he muttered petulantly, already conceding Logan’s point, and they both knew it. 

“That is true, they are not synonyms. However, ‘highly improbable’ and ‘very unlikely’ are, and thus my point stands.”

Virgil wasn’t sure whether to be very annoyed or very amused. Nine times out of ten he would choose the latter, but before he even realised it his face was falling into a grin. He took a moment to school his features, trying to at least appear somewhat serious- after all that’s what logan seemed to be doing.

“Yeah, well your ‘point’ isn’t made with full evidence,” he sighed, continuing the mock discussion for the sake of something to talk about.

“Well, then what am I unaware of that would change my conclusion?” he asked, actually seeming curious.

“Well, the fact that Roman- that's the new kid by the way-”

“-Yes I had heard his name being called”

“And I have a little thing going where I hate him and he almost definitely hates me.”

“Almost definitely does not mean certainly,” Logan said a slight smirk on his face.

“Didn’t we just have this conversation about schematics in the opposite direction?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Virgil,” Logan said, smirk fully formed on his face, the most emotion Virgil had ever remembered seeing him wear, across every project they’d ever done together.

Before he knew it, Virgil was actually laughing. He wasn’t sure what finally set him off- the absolute ridiculousness of his jealousy or Logan’s deadpan comment, but he guessed it must be a combination of the two. 

Logan, for his part, seemed both pleased with himself, and surprised at Virgil's reaction, again, more emotion than he had ever seen before. He didn’t seem half bad, although Virgil had no idea why it had taken until this conversation for him to realise it.

“Maybe this arranged seating won’t be the end of the world after all,” Virgil said slowly, grin still in place. 

“There is a slim to none chance that the end of the world would be brought about by Miss Hamasaki seating us together,” Logan said with a frown, and Virgil sighed.

“I meant, like, figuratively. You know, that we’d never get along, and that I'd have the worst time ever being forced to sit with you,” Virgil said.

“Oh,” said Logan, “well, I am glad that you do not think I am the worst possible person to be seated with.”

“Understatement much. I’d get into a fight with a quarter of the people in this class, and be too nervous to talk to the other three quarters, so you’re definitely up there.”

“But that adds to a whole, where would I- and for that matter Patton, as I’m sure you neither want to fight him or are afraid of him- fit into that?” Logan asked, once again seeming legitimately confused.

“I meant them as rough fractions, not perfect estimates. If there was a Venn diagram there would be one average size circle for ‘people i would fight’ and then a much bigger one with ‘people I am afraid of’ and then there is a third, very small circle, which is actually just labelled ‘Patton, Logan and that one girl I had to do a history project with last year’,” Virgil said, making the motions of drawing circles with his hands as he spoke. 

“Ah, well… That seems to be high regard, coming from you, Virgil. I am… Satisfied with your opinion of me,” Logan said slowly.

“Sure thing, L,” Virgil said, immediately panicking upon using the nickname but trying to play it off as he turned to the front as Miss Hamasaki called their attention. 

If Virgil had looked, and seen Logan’s reaction, he might not have been able to judge the emotion there, as Logan himself seemed to struggle to. 

If he had looked, he might have seen the strange quirk to his lips that wasn’t one that often appeared, considering Logan wasn’t often one for displaying- or feeling as he would say- happiness. 

But Virgil didn’t look, and he didn’t see the happy expression there, as Logan silently sat surprised at the prospect of maybe, just maybe, finding a friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Logan!! My sweet Bab!! Don't you worry, babe! You'll have plenty of friends, and then more-than-friends, later! For now, tear out my heart strings I guess, Emo. X'C  
\- Ace


	3. In Other News, the Universe Thinks it's Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Virgil's day goes a little something like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks- there's been a bit of a gap between this chapter and the last, because I have been away, and making Ace's life difficult in the process lol, so sorry for that. On the other hand, there's a hell of a lot of plot here, and also.... just a lot, you know?? anway, I hope you enjoy!!   
-Emo <3
> 
> So the lateness on this one is entirely my fault. I got hooked into a tv series and have been incapacitated by needing to finish it (almost done, don't worry it won't be in the way again).   
To make up for our tardiness though we literally wrote FIVE THOUSAND WORDS, so don't be too mad :P  
As always, we are not American and have no idea how America works, so correct us if we're wrong  
\- Ace
> 
> Anygay~ hope y'all enjoy!!

The most positive thing that Virgil could say about the rest of his day was that it passed. It didn’t pass quickly, or easily, but it did at least pass.

Logan’s company, as he was now one of the few people Virgil could say that he liked, meant that Science wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The teacher, however, certainly seemed to be trying to make it that way. Virgil could firmly say that he did not like her. How could he, when she had assigned seats. It didn’t matter how well he got along with Logan- He could turn out to be his closest friend for the rest of his life, AND the best man at his wedding- he would still hold a grudge against her. 

It didn’t seem like he was alone in this opinion either if the scowls from the other students through the lesson were anything to go by. Not that he saw many of these, seated so much closer to the front than he usually was. But when he twisted in his seat to see what Patton was doing, which was more often than he’d like to admit if Logan’s curious gaze was anything to go by, he could spot more than a few.

The things they were learning weren’t actually that bad, in fact, had anyone else been teaching he might have actually enjoyed the topic, but he couldn’t find it in himself interested at all based partly on his grudge and partly on the separation anxiety he wouldn’t admit he had.

He was incredibly grateful, to leave science in favour of Maths, another class that he still wasn’t particularly fond of, but one where seats were not assigned and where it wouldn't have mattered if they were anyway, considering he didn’t actually have any friends there. 

So Virgil sat alone, writing notes, and paying more attention to the scribbles he drew inside the margins of his book than the actual content. That was until halfway through when he remembered this was his last year and exams were a thing he had to worry about. After that, he tuned in for approximately half the lesson and still didn’t learn much.

Soon after the mild disaster that was his attempt at being studious he was finally free and on his way home. He said his goodbyes to Patton, where they parted ways at the front entrance, as Patton rushed off to do whatever he needed to, to look after his siblings, and Virgil started the walk home.

As always, he was home alone for about an hour after school before Emile came rushing in with equally rapid apologies and about four different shows and movies on his mind from work that day.

Luckily, today one of those shows was one that Virgil had already seen. Stranger Things if you must know- so he could put it on and only give it half his attention as he didn’t do the things he was supposed to, like homework, in favour of things he shouldn’t be doing, like Tumblr. It was a pretty good system for them, which they often fell into during the school term. It meant Virgil didn’t have to spend all the time talking and had an opportunity to recharge, and also that Emile got to spend time with him while also doing something ‘productive’. (Emile’s standards for productivity, in Virgil’s opinion, were at least a little skewed. Although his weren’t exactly better.)

They had made it through two episodes, including pauses for theories and reactions from Emile, and barely contained amusement from Virgil, as he had already seen the whole thing, before Remy returned. 

“Hey babes!” Remy called along with the slamming of a door, as dramatic as ever, “I’m home!”

“We’re in the living room, sweetheart!” Emile called back.

He turned down the TV, but didn’t pause it, knowing that Remy would be in shortly to join them anyway.

They could hear him dumping groceries with just a bit more fuss than necessary, before he walked into the room and plopped straight into Emile’s lap. Emile smiled brightly, wrapping his arms around Remy and kissing his cheek.

Virgil looked at them out of the corner of his eye and faked a gag. Though the mushiness of their relationship could be embarrassing at times (especially with Patton over), Virgil always liked seeing his parents in love, he just wouldn't let  _ them _ know that. Well, he would, just not on a day to day basis. Sappy was not his default setting, and never would be. There were at least three stages of ‘emotional unpacking’ before he’d come anywhere close to that. And yes, before you ask, Emile and Patton are in fact the only people that have ever managed this.

“Alright,” He said after their cutesy affection and whispered whatever's got too much for him to stand with only an eye role to defend himself, “Are we having dinner or what?”

“Well Virgil,” Remy said, with a signature smirk, “Your father happens to be a snack, so I think I’m set.”

“Oh god, I did NOT need to hear that, thanks dad. Time for me to go wash my  _ ears _ out I guess,” Virgil said, almost choking on the words

Emile had the decency to be embarrassed, which only landed his face in the crook of Remy’s shoulder. Remy, on the other hand, just continued to sit there and grin.

Virgil rolled his eyes at them yet again, but the smile crept onto his face anyway.

It’s a candid moment, like one you would see on TV or someones Instagram. It’s a pity it doesn't last, as a very familiar voice creeps into Virgil’s head.

**What the hell would you do without them?**

Virgil’s breath caught, and his smile faltered. What  _ would  _ he do without them? After all, he would be without them… eventually. He’d be moving out soon enough if he went away for college, and the risk of either of them being hit by a car as they came home from work was astronomical. And regardless of right now, one day they would get older...

“Virgil,” Remy said firmly, suddenly he was in front of Virgil.  _ When did he get there? _ “Virgil, babe, listen to me.”

“Virgil,” Emile was there too,  _ When did they get up? _ “Virgil, honey, what colour are my eyes?”

Virgil looked up properly, though his vision was blurry.  _ When did that happen? _ “Uh,” He paused, “Green.”

“Good,” Remy said, pushing his sunglasses on top of his head, “And mine?”

Virgil blinked and frowned in concentration. What colour were Remy’s eyes? Were they brown or amber? Virgil squinted, and his vision cleared, “Amber,” He decided.

“You’re sure?”

He was quiet for a moment before nodding, “Yeah, definitely.”

Remy nodded, leaning back on the coffee table. Emile was kneeling next to Virgil’s armchair.

“You wanna tell us what got you going in there?” Emile asked softly, a slight frown pulling on his mouth.

“Just, uh… just questions and, kinda... Inevitabilities. No big… it’s not really a problem.”

Emile gave a small, proud grin at Virgil’s catch, before it settled back into concern, “Can you tell me about it anyway?”

Virgil paused, before throwing his head back with a groan, “Fine, whatever. I was just… I was thinking about what was going to happen when I… When I move out.”

“Oh, you’ll have a grand time!” Emile assured with a bright smile.

Remy nodded in agreement, “You’ll have too much fun to remember your poor old dads.”

Virgil knew they were trying to lighten the mood, but he wasn’t as amused. He didn’t like the idea of not remembering them, or even not being here. It felt like the worst nightmare he could ever envision. Even if that wasn’t what they meant at all.

Emile caught on to that, “Sweetie, it’ll be good for you. I promise. It’ll be like spreading your wings. And if you’re ever overwhelmed, we’re only a phone call away. And like we said before, if you really don’t think you’re ready to go away, the local college is still an option.”

“You don’t have to worry about that yet though,” Remy assured, “You have Senior Year still cushioning you from the big scary world.”

“And us,” Emile added quickly, “You’ll always have us.”

“But what if I don’t!” Virgil exclaimed, standing up, which was slightly difficult considering their position, and beginning to pace, which immediately set a spike of worry through his dads.

“What if your room gets hit by a car tonight?”

“Virgil, babe,” Remy said firmly, “We sleep on the second floor-”

“A plane then! What if some madman comes after you? What if I fuck something up so bad you realise that you never wanted me anyway? What if some bastard puts a curse on you both to forget all about me, and I’ll be stuck on the streets!”

Emile stood up and quickly gathered Virgil in a soft hug. If he wanted to, he could get out easily, but he could just as easily sink into the hug… it was so easy, that he didn’t even realise he’d done it.

“We aren’t going to leave you, Virgil,” Emile assured, the ‘ _ not like that, not like they did _ ,’ wasn’t said verbatim, but what he said instead meant the same, “We would never leave you, no matter how badly you messed up, no matter where you go, no matter what happens. We’re here for you, ok?”

“Ok.”

Emile hugged Virgil until he was ready to back away, and Remy ruffled his hair, a fond grin decorating his face. 

They knew how best to deal with the aftermath of these kinds of attacks, for Virgil specifically, at this point, so after a few more minutes of overly affectionate coddling, they left him in his chair to start on dinner.

After that, there was quiet in the living room. He could hear the sounds of them in the other room, and Emile would step back in to check on him every so often, but he was allowed to recover without being blocked in, the way he preferred. And the soft sounds of banter and cooking and the smell from the other room was enough to keep the quiet comforting instead of oppressive.

Dinner was a quieter affair than normal, or rather, softer. It was like Virgil was now labelled “fragile, handle with care” and their conversation was wrapped in bubble wrap. He couldn’t decide whether he liked it. Some days he wished that they’d just pretend nothing had happened, and some days he was very grateful for their concern. He couldn’t figure out what day today was.

All he really felt was tense, and tired. But that was how he usually felt, so why complain now?

“So,” Emile said eventually, “How was your first day back at school?”

Virgil almost groaned, but answered anyway “Fine.”

“Meet any cuties?” Remy asked, lounging back in his chair with a smirk.

“It’s his last year, Rem, the chance of him not knowing people in his year, or new people joining isn’t exactly high,” Emile said, giving Virgil a fantastic out.

“Yeah, babe, that might be true of most kids, but this is Virgil, the chances he hasn’t talked to someone is like, significantly larger,” Remy said, his tone lightly teasing.

“Well, you might have a point with that one…” 

“So, Virgil, darling, repeat question- Meet anyone cute?”

“Let me think,” He said sarcastically while he kept eating.

Remy groaned, “Come on! Work with me here babe _ ! _ ”

“Remy,” Emile scolded good-naturedly, a fond smile betraying the only half stern tone. 

Virgil smiled cockily, sticking his tongue out at his father. Remy leaned further back, mock offence written across his features. Emile chuckled fondly, shaking his head at their antics.

He took a moment, so that Remy was distracted with dinner again before he gave an actual answer.

“I… well, met isn’t exactly the right word, for either of them. That kind of implies an interaction that goes ‘hi my name is Virgil nice to meet you’ and ‘hi Virgil I’m x’ and then you like, talk. Which happened with neither of them.”

“Neither? That implies that there was more than one!” Emile turned to Remy suddenly, a far too excited smile on his face, “Honey, did you hear? A miracle occurred today!”

Virgil glared, “Do you want me to tell you or not?”

Emile leaned forward, grinning “Please, go on.”

Virgil sighed, “I had a debate with a guy today, in English. It got… heated. He was an absolute idiot.”

“What was it about?” Emile asked curiously.

“Macbeth.”

Remy looked over at Emile, “What did you expect? We raised a nerd.”

Virgil sat back all feigned outrage, “Excuse you! I am not a nerd! I have a very specific aesthetic that I’m going for here, and nerd is not it! I have not invested in this many black outfits to be called a nerd. Besides, if you were to compare me to an actual nerd, I just don’t hold up. Actually, the other guy I talked to today is a better example. If you looked up nerd in the dictionary it’d be a picture of this guy.”

“How did you meet him?”

“Well, I’ve seen him around before,” Virgil said quickly, “Worked on a few projects. He’s a fairly decent partner, I guess. We were assigned seats in Science.” Remy gagged, and Virgil nodded in agreement, “And I was sat next to Logan- that’s his name. He’s nice enough, but I wish I was sitting next to Patton. He got stuck next to the first guy.”

“The boy you debated?” Emile asked.

“Yeah, Roman,” He practically glowered, which Remy picked up on, “Honestly, who really thinks there’s  _ fate _ happening in Macbeth? Doesn’t that just take away from Macbeth’s actions? ‘Oh, yes, I murdered the king for power and money, but you see, it was fate. Old ladies in the woods told me to do it!’”

Emile nodded, “That is true, but a lot of people like to draw from the obviously mysterious nature and place the blame there instead. It’s like any piece of media with implied magic-realism.”

“From its curse to its content, people like to explain the vibes with fancy words instead of just appreciating them,” Remy added. He was surprisingly well versed in Shakespeare for someone who hated reading.

Emile nodded, “We tend to try and justify acts as horrible as Macbeth’s, and a lot of people don’t want to believe that we’re capable of such atrocities, in media or history. And so magic and fantasy end up being the scapegoats used to try and soften blows in text. If Macbeth is not accountable for his actions, he can become a more likeable character.”

Virgil sighed, and nodded, going back to his meal. Sure, he could understand Roman’s point when put like that, but that doesn't mean he agrees with it.

Not much is said for the rest of dinner, but Remy and Emile did turn to one another, having various silent conversations, some Virgil was sure would be about him.

Eventually they returned to the living room, Remy and Emile laying on the couch as an entanglement of limbs, being disgustingly domestic and mushy. Virgil would look up from Tumblr every now and again, when Emile made some comment about the plot of the show and how he could use it at work, or when Remy said something particularly biting and sarcastic. He chimed in occasionally, but he kept mostly silent.

He was happy watching- both them and the show. At some point during the night they shifted, and laced their fingers together, which yes, Virgil did fake gag at. 

Mostly because they were being sappy, but also because sometimes, it was a little strange when he could see both their matching soul bands on their wrists. The pale pink and coffee brown strands that looped around each other on their wrists usually filled him with warmth at their relationship and the future he might have with his own soulmate one day, but sometimes… Well, sometimes he couldn’t help but fall into old habits.

It was one of those bits of conditioned thinking that still crept up on him from time to time He’d spent a lot of time working through the effects the foster system had had on him, and his birth parents before that, but even now, sometimes little bits slipped through. 

He remembered his birth mother’s blind hatred of soulmates, and yet how she still seemed upset she didn’t have one. She’d often told him that he would probably end up broken, just like her, his band would never come in, just like hers. What a lovely thing to tell a child. He knew that there was no way that she could know this- a person’s band didn’t show up until they were around eighteen, and plenty of studies have proved that having or not having a soulmate was not hereditary

And yet… 

And yet that little voice in the back of his head always liked to perk up whenever he spent too much time watching his dads. 

**You’ll never have that, your mark still hasn’t come in.** The voice growled. After a moment, Virgil smirked and went back to Tumblr. He’d followed it down that rabbit hole more than enough times and at this point, and this late in the day, he didn’t really care.  _ So what?  _ He thought back, a response he’d been practising, and was almost starting to believe.  _ I have my dads, and Patton. Who says I need anyone else. _

**What if you do have a soulmate?** It asked, changing tactic.  _ And? _ He almost replied.  **And they’re not Patton.**

That got his attention. That one was new.

_ I don’t want Patton to be my soulmate.  _ He thought defensively. 

**Yes you do. You want it so badly. Because otherwise, he’s going to leave you for the person he’s destined for. **

_ Shut up! Shut up, shut up! _ He thought viscously. He didn’t want to think about that. He was very happy with the bubble he lived in for now. 

The little voice didn’t respond, but he could almost feel the smugness radiating from it, as it settled back to a simmer in the back of his mind. 

It had done its job.

His mind raced wildly as the rest of the episode passed without him seeing or hearing any of it, his hand shaking the whole time.  _ What if they’re not Patton? What if Patton stops being friends with me because his soulmate doesn't like me? What if the universe gives me someone who hates me as a soulmate? What if we don’t get along? What if I end up partnered with someone like, I dunno, Roman? _

He knew he couldn’t leave until the credits of the episode were rolling without worrying his dads, but as it was over he excused himself quickly, barely stuttering out, “Shower,” before darting from the room. 

Virgil sets the water to as close to scalding as he can handle, (a temperature that would probably have resembled something to warm to most people). The warm water was a fantastic remedy to tense muscles, and a perfect distraction from things like his spiralling thoughts.

He stayed there as long as he could justify being under the water, but eventually he had to pull himself out and grab pyjamas. His go-to set were still sitting on his half-made bed, and clean enough for another night, so he grabbed the soft pants and even softer knitted sweater that Emile’s mother had given him two Christmases before. The fact that he liked being very warm when he slept, and that he liked it significantly more than typical teenage-protagonists liked sweaters knitted by their grandmothers, made it a very good sleep shirt. The fact that it was the only place he would wear something lilac and white also came into consideration.

The additional fact that it was starting to get just a  _ little _ too small was something he’d been ignoring up to now. However, the length of the sleeves was starting to bother him, just a bit. 

“I might need to ask for a new-” He started to speak, thinking out loud, before he froze in a moment of absolute shock, as he noticed a dark-grey ring around his left wrist.

He tripped backwards landing on his bed, as if that would put distance between himself and his own body part. He sat there a moment eyes screwed shut, trying to avoid the whole thing. 

With a few deep breaths, carefully following the 4-7-8 method he relied on, he found the courage to open his eyes and inspect his wrist adorned with a new soul band. Did the universe really think it was funny? It really did decide that after an internal breakdown about soulmates was the best time to have his band come in.

_ Maybe not the time, Virgil _ he scolded himself, and looked back down at the band itself. 

There was a deep purple cord, it could’ve easily been mistaken for black, that was obviously him, which was… yeah that was in character. And then there was a light grey one, and two dark grey-

He stopped. Stopped looking, stopped moving, stopped breathing, almost stopped breathing. 

That was  _ four cords _ . There were supposed to be two. That was how it was. You either had two strands- one for you and one for your soulmate, like his dads’ and most other people- or you had none. 

This was wrong. This was all wrong. How the fuck was he supposed to deal with this?

He’d prepared for everything else. He’d have been resigned if he never got one, and he’d have been prepared if he did, but what the fuck was he supposed to do with  _ this _ . 

He could barely manage to get air into his lungs, but he knew he needed… he needed something… he needed his fathers.

“Dad…” He sobbed, barely audible even to himself.

“Dad… Dad, Dad!” he repeated, louder and louder until he was screaming. 

There was silence, for a moment, except for his ragged breathing. Then, he heard both of their footsteps hurrying up the stairs. It was only a moment later when Remy and Emile burst through the door. 

Emile rushed to Virgil immediately, “Virgil, what happened? What’s wrong?”

Virgil didn’t cry often. He had his fair share of breakdowns, but he didn’t cry. So why were there tears already streaming down his face.

“Me!” He almost yelled, but his voice was shaky and wet, “I told you! It’s me, I’m broken! I can’t even fuck up like a normal person! I told you!”

Emile blinked in surprise, before gathering Virgil up in a firm but, importantly, escapeable hug. Virgil sunk into Emile, face pressed into his father’s chest as he sobbed.

Remy, now seeing there was no imminent threat to Virgil, sat down on the bed. He waited a moment, before gently stroking Virgil’s still damp hair.

Virgil couldn’t see this, but above his head, Remy and Emile continued their silent conversation, worry clear in their faces.

Eventually, he calmed enough to pull back from Emile’s chest, eye and nose red, and still a slight hiccup to his breathing. Emile let go of him, and started stroking his hands instead, keeping a gentle, soft touch available to him.

“Hey buddy,” said Emile softly, “Want to tell us what that was about?”

Virgil wanted to say no. He really did. He didn’t want to disappoint his dad. But the kind, gentle smile broke him, and he sighed. 

“It’s here.”

“What is?”

He held out his wrist, refusing to look at it himself.

“It showed up, and it’s bad and wrong and broken. I couldn’t even be the normal kind of broken.”

Emile frowned, lifting Virgil’s hand to examine what he was claiming to be ‘broken’, and on his other side Remy leaned in to see as well. After a quick gasp of surprise his frown morphed suddenly into a bright smile that only grew as he turned Virgil’s arm softly to see his band all the way around.

“Sweetie, your band isn’t broken.”

“It is! You’re just saying that” Virgil insisted, glaring in anger at his wrist.

“Not at all,” Emile assured, patting his hand “It’s really quite beautiful, even in grey-scale.”

Virgil didn’t believe that.

“It’s not broken, or wrong, or anything of the sort. I promise you, Virgil.”

“How do you know?” Virgil snapped, pulling his hand away and crossing his arms so no one could see

“Because I’ve seen them before. Soulmate bands with more than two threads.”

Virgil blinked in surprise, his arms relaxed slightly, although not enough to see the band again.

Emile grinned brightly, “You know I do a lot of relationship therapy, and I’ve seen a lot of different types of relationships- and soul bands, or ‘Braids’ are the more accurate term in this case. They’re perfectly normal, Virgil. And yours looks particularly interesting. The pattern is beautiful, there even looks like there are some complicated celtic knots in the layout, from what I saw.”

Virgil’s arms uncrossed, and his hands fell into his lap, he looked down at it wonder and confusion, “You’ve seen it before?” He repeated lamely.

“I have,” Emile replied, “With some polyamorous couples that come in.”

Virgil’s gaze snapped up, “Polyamorous?” the words seemed almost familiar

“Polyamourous…” Remy repeated, grinning slightly, “That’s like, the poisonous blobs under the ocean, right? Oh, the ones Nemo and his dad live in!”

Virgil looked over with a frown, almost certain that Remy was taking the piss, while Emile smiled in amusement and knitted his eyebrows together, “Uh, no dear. That’s anemones, though I do appreciate the reference to Finding Nemo, that’s not even close to the same word.”

Remy only smiled and leaned back, staring at the ceiling, before clicking his fingers, “It’s that fabric that t-shirts are made of!”

“That’s… that’s Polyester, dad” Virgil said, frowning.

“Oh, Shit… then its… ah, fuck… its the one where you’re attracted to more than one person or gender?”

“Close, but no dice, Remy. That would be Bi, Pan, or Polysexual.” Emile shook his head, half laughing

“Fuck!” Remy exclaimed, “Dating more than one person! That’s the Bitch”

“Bingo!” Emile grinned proudly, about to explain further for Virgil but Remy interrupted.

“My sister-in-law has a relationship like that.”

Virgil and Emile both turned to him slowly, eyebrows drawn in an identical, amused but confused frown.

“What?” Remy asked, raising his hands in defence “She is.”

“Your sister-in-law,” Virgil repeated.

“Yeah, I said what I said.”

“Your sister-in-law,” Virgil said again, “The one that’s married to your  _ sister _ ?”

“And their non-binary partner- they’re an absolute babe by the way, nowhere near as cute as Emile but- anyway, yeah that sister-in-law, what about it? “ Remy said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

“Remy- Remy, darling, why did you skip your sister in favour of your inlaws?” Emile asked, laughing. 

“Because she’s my favourite sibling,” Remy replied frowning as though this was the obvious solution.

Virgil snorted and burst into a fit of laughter, hiding his face in his hands.

“Dad, you’re an idiot, I love you,” He said between his fingers.

Above his head, Remy grinned, while Emile shook his head, a fond smile on his face. The ‘thank you’ on Emile’s face would have been clear, even to Virgil, had he looked up.

It took Virgil a moment to come down from his hysterical laughter, which was almost to be expected with an emotional rollercoaster like that night had been, but when he did, he leaned into Emile’s side, and sat comfortably with Remy’s arm around his shoulder.

“So, Virgil, can you see that your soul-band isn’t broken after all,” Emile smiled gently, “It just means you have more than one soulmate.”

Virgil bit his lip, his eyebrows furrowing, “What am I supposed to do with more than one soulmate? How does that even work?”

“Well, I’m sure it will take a lot of communication, but you’ll get there. I know you will.”

Virgil looked at his wrist, running his fingers over the cords braided together, “And you don’t hate me for it?” He didn’t mean to say that aloud.

“Of course not,” Emile assured.

“Babe, like, of course not. I just said I got my favourite sibling through my sister’s soul braid. And now I’ll get to meet my second to fourth favourite children through yours,” Remy said, pulling back to look at Virgil from arm’s length, and grinning.

“Remy,” Emile admonished him gently.

“Ok, fine, fine, I won’t play favourites with Virgil’s future partners, are you happy, babe?”

Emile shook his head, laughing again, and Virgil couldn't help but smile along. 

Remy wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders again, “We love you, Virgil, no matter what. We love you, and our potential in-laws, no matter how many of them.”

Virgil smiled, leaning into Remy’s embrace.

“What if I like one or two of them more than the others,” He said after a moment, voice very small and smile falling, “What if none of them like me? What if they like each other better? Oh, this is just a whole new set of problems…”

“They’ll adore you,” Emile assured, “Whoever they are, wherever they are. They will, because you are their match, as they are yours.”

“I can’t wait to tease them all,” Remy grinned mischievously “About the fact they fell for the ‘Emo bad boy with a heart of gold’ trope”

Virgil snorted, and slowly the worries floated away. They’d be back, as they always were, but for now, there was respite. 

“What colours do you think they’ll be?” Emile asked excitedly, “I think that light-grey one has to be a yellow.”

“Nah, babe, I bet it’s green.”

“Blue,” Virgil smiled softly, “I think one of them will be blue.”

Emile began to gush about how pretty that would be, Remy agreeing that it would compliment Virgil’s deep purple, and continuing to speculate over the various ways he could embarrass both Virgil and his soulmates. 

Yes, the worries would return as they always did, but for now, Virgil was content to sit with his fathers and talk about what possible colours would streak through his braid of possibility. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love this chapter so damn much. I hope you guys did too :)  
\- Ace
> 
> If you see a mistake, feel free to roast us in the comments!


	4. The Appearing Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has this been a long time coming? Yes.  
Is this far shorter than I personally want it to be? Also yes.  
Are we all going to have to deal with this fact because it's the best any of us are getting when writing is hard? Yeah, we're going three for three here. Of course, we're sorry about these facts, but it be like that sometimes. 
> 
> Enjoy what we've got, I guess :) -Emo
> 
> C'est la vie. -Ace

The morning after he found out about his soul band was surprisingly normal and could honestly only be considered rather underwhelming. Virgil guessed that it might be similar to waking up after turning eighteen and realising that really, nothing substantial had actually changed. Not that he’s had the pleasure of that particular experience yet. 

He knew that the actual band was the first thing that shows up when it came to soulmates, and that none of the… other aspects really start showing up until days, or even weeks after the band itself manifests, but that didn’t change the fact he still felt a bit… Empty, now. 

But it’s not like he could really do anything, so his day went on as normal.

He was woken, as usual, by his dad rather than an alarm, because Remy thinks everyone else’s sleep schedule (or lack thereof) is his business. 

He ate breakfast as usual and walked to school as usual. The only real difference about his day was that now he had four strands of fate and a cuffed bracelet on his wrist to cover it. 

He’s not sure why he decided to wear it, honestly. Well, he knew, of course, that it was the anxiety that made him do it, but he’s not sure what he's afraid of. The only person who would probably notice was Patton. And there was definitely absolutely not in any way anything wrong with Patton seeing it. For sure. 

So he shows up at school as usual as well, and greets Patton the same way he has every other school day, and goes to his first class all completely normal. 

In fact, it’s not until lunch that he’s faced with anything out of the ordinary, and even that isn’t because of the soul band. 

Which is to say, when he goes out to their tree, instead of it being devoid of other students, or with Patton sitting under it, he sees the one person he really rather wouldn’t.

Roman Miller sits under the tree, casually checking his phone and looking for all the world as if he belonged there. 

Virgil’s first thought, is, of course,  _ what the fuck is he doing here _ . His second though is  _ Patton is too nice for his own good.  _

Virgil scowls, deliberating on whether he really wants this conflict. Eventually, with a huff he decides against it, and turns tail in the other direction. He heads towards what could be called his ‘backup’ spot, but would be more accurately called the place and person he runs away too, occasionally.

He turns the corner, only to stop dead in his tracks once again. Miller was there, too. 

“How the fuck did you get here?” he asks before he can really think, and before he can notice the boy sitting here  _ isn’t _ Roman, but does look freakishly like him. It takes Virgil another moment to put two and two together.

“Oh shit- fuck I’m sorry I thought you were Roman,” he says, panicked. 

“Well, that’s the first time in a while someone’s done that,” the boy laughs and turns to Damian next to him, “I thought my mustache was working Dee!”

Virgil looks between the two of them cautiously. Damian smiles.

“Hello Virgil, as you can see, I've picked up another stray. Although, this one apparently intends to make actually sitting with me a more regular occurrence,” he says quirking an eyebrow.

How he knows this after like two days of knowing him, Virgil doesn't know.

Virgil looks at the ground, a little sheepish, “Ah, hi Dee,”

“Well, I suppose it’s good that you decided to drop in. Virgil, meet Remus Miller, delinquent, goblin, and all round rat bastard,” Dee says, rolling his eyes a little at the introduction.

The description… does seem accurate now that Virgil really looks at the other boy. His face is exactly like Roman’s, but he seems to have thrown on some makeup messily and drawn on a moustache in… sharpie. He somehow manages to look like he has money but he’s never used it in his life, in his expensive branded clothes with rips holes and frays everywhere, some which look deliberate and some which don’t.

Remus, for his part just stared at Virgil grinning and holding his hand out for Virgil to shake. He did, gingerly. 

“And Remus, this is Virgil, he's our resident emo and local cryptid, aside from myself of course,” he said, smirking. 

“So,” Remus said, mostly ignoring Dee's introductions, “I see you have a problem with my brother?”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably under that off putting stare, but before he could find the words to respond, Remus laughs.

“Good, I don’t blame you, he’s an annoying prick.”

Virgil does a double take at that. “What?” he barely manages to stutter, as Remus laughs.

“I said he’s an annoying prick. Like, you think he’s bad, imagine having to live with him!” he exclaims.

“Oh… well, I uh, I just have an issue because we got into a fight in english yesterday.”

“Oh my god,  _ you’re _ Macbeth kid?” He practically jumps like an over excited puppy, “I'm so sorry Dee, but this kid is my new best friend!”

“It’s fine, it's not like you’d only known me a day anyway,” Dee said sarcastically, shaking his head.

“Yeah, ok, whatever, but this is the guy who got into a full on fight with my brother about fate in macbeth- he was soooooo pissed last night- mostly because you were making good points, and that you had a fair argument, so like, keep it up.”

“Uh, thanks?” Virgil mumbles, suddenly thinking this wasn't as good of an idea as he thought it was. Remus took about as much energy to deal with as Roman, although in an entirely different way.

Roman was like… some metaphor he didn’t care to describe, while Remus was like an over excited puppy. With rabies.

“So, care to share why you aren’t with your little… Patton pal this lunch Virgil?” Dee asks, glancing at his fingernails nonchalantly. 

“Uh, Roman was in my spot? And I didn’t feel like starting another confrontation so soon?”

“Hmm,” is Dee’s only response.

“And it’s the second day back and I wanted to see you?” he adds hopefully.

Dee doesn't smile, but he nods consideringly. 

“Well, that's a little more boring than I'd hoped you’d be, but we can work with that I guess,” Remus interjects

“Sure…”

_ God. this was going to be a long lunch.  _ he thought.

And boy, was it. 

He could barely contain his relief upon having to go to his next class, although he was sure that dealing with Remus was better than having to deal with Roman. Even if he didn't get to spend lunch with Patton. He really  _ had _ wanted to see Dee at some point. 

He could hold out. It would be fine.

And it was. Though Patton was especially disappointed about being ditched for lunch, but apparently he had a good time talking to Roman. That was all they talked about on the way to class at least. 

It was fine. It was a normal day, nothing was different, nothing was wrong. Roman Miller would not be a problem and he could ignore his soul band until it had something actually useful to tell him.


End file.
